The Kid From My Memory
by The Diagon Alley Merchant
Summary: This is the story of Ace and Stella. And accidental meeting, fuelled by anger and curiosity, sparks true love. However; neither know the others true identity. After the Great Battle of Hogwarts, a note written out of loneliness triggers the re-unification of soul mates. This is the story of Draco and Hermione. Set in 8th year. EWE. Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Here is my first ever Fanfic. I welcome constructive criticism but no flamers. This is for all my fellow Dramione shippers. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but all the magnificent world that is Harry Potter belongs to the awesome J.K. Rowling. I am not making any money out of this, so don't sue me.

_**PROLOGUE**_

Soul mates. Some say they only exist in romance novels or rom-coms. Others say they do exist in reality (although these people are generally the ones in a relationship themselves). The general idea of soul mates is that there is someone for everyone, a person that makes you feel whole and you do find them eventually. Most people though will wait years, even decades, to find The One. Some never do.

Two people however, only had to wait seven years.

One is Hermione Granger. A bushy dark-haired girl with caramel coloured eyes. She has a compassionate, but sometimes feisty nature, and an intellect that far exceeds her years. At seven years old, she has no knowledge of the heroic witch she will turn out to be. Heck, she doesn't have any knowledge of wizards and witches yet. Well, we all know she was born into a normal family. What most wizards call a Muggle-born.

And others call a Mudblood.

The second person is Draco Malfoy. A boy with striking silver eyes and hair so blond it's almost white. He too, at seven years old, has yet no knowledge of the path of his future, that he will one day become a very important part of Lord Voldemort's grand scheme. Unlike Hermione however, he was born into a wizard family. A Pureblood.

This is a story of how these two met, both blissfully unaware of what fate had in store for the two of them. Both as enemies, and as lovers.

_**Chapter 1**_

Hermione gazed out of her bedroom window to the forest beyond, wallowing in self-pity and utter boredom. It was the fifth day in a row she had been left with old Mrs May, while her parents went off to work. Hermione understood they had to work in order to pay for the house, the food she ate, the clothes she wore. But she was an energetic five-year-old for goodness sake! An eighty-something year old woman was not an ideal playmate. It occurred to Hermione that she should maybe phone one of her school friends to invite them round, but she quickly dismissed the idea, she got tired of always playing dumb around them. It was the second week of the summer holidays, most of them were probably abroad with their families. But as the snores of Mrs May filtered through her door over which ever soap-opera she was watching downstairs, an idea came to Hermione. She ran out her bedroom, grabbing a white cardigan on the way and throwing it on over her yellow sundress. As she was about to open the door, she paused. She quickly retrieved a pen and paper, and proceeded to write a hurried note, in case the old lady woke up. Then, smiling at her sudden bravery, Hermione quietly opened and closed the door, and set off down the path that led her to the dense, green forest.

* * *

On the other side of the forest, Draco sat staring out of his own bedroom window, but for different reasons. His father had once again yelled at him for reasons young Draco couldn't understand. He tried not to let it get to him. His mother had explained to him that it was only because his father was still upset over the sudden downfall of the Dark Lord, which had caused the family to flee and live in this house in the middle of a muggle neighbourhood. They had to live here until his father was freed from all charges as a death eater, much to his father's dismay.

But that was a stupid reason. The downfall of Voldemort had been, what, six years ago? Why couldn't his just lighten up already and stop yelling?

Draco decided he couldn't stand being cooped up in his room any longer. He ran downstairs and just as he was about to reach the door his mother called out,

"Draco, where are you going?"

"Out." He replied bitterly before slamming the door behind him.

Narcissa, having noticed her son's foul attitude, stood up and made for the door that connected the living-room to the hall, but as she passed Lucius, he grabbed her wrist without even looking up from the Daily Prophet. Narcissa winced at his firm grip.

"Leave him." Lucius told her.

He then let go. Not wanting another argument to break out, Narcissa sat back in her seat. She knew the reasons why Draco had left in such an abrupt manner and she honestly couldn't blame him.

* * *

Hermione giggled to herself as she skipped between the trees. Her parents had often advised her against going into the forest alone, and she couldn't see why. The air was thick with the smell of pollen and grass, sunlight filtered in through small gaps in between the many branches of different trees. What looked like millions of tiny flowers suddenly seemed to bloom as she approached them. Hermione thought it was just a trick of the light. Bird songs were being sung from all around her. This had to be one of the most beautiful places Hermione had ever-

THUNK!

Hermione froze. She realised she had come to the edge of a clearing in the middle of the forest. There stood a grand oak tree. It was so big; Hermione had to crane her little neck in order to see the top. To add to this, at the base of the tree, stood a boy with shockingly pale hair.

She didn't even know hair could be so pale.

THUNK!

Hermione managed to tear her eyes away from the back of the boy's head long enough to discover the source of the noise. To her great confusion, she saw he was hurling stray rocks at the tree.

What can he be so angry about, that he feels the need to throw rocks at trees?

THUNK!

She jumped back in fright.

CRACK!

Hermione winced. Looking down at her feet, she saw she had accidently stepped on a branch. When she looked back up, a pair of stormy grey eyes were staring back at her.

Draco had been so wrapped up in his anger; he hadn't even noticed there was someone behind him until he heard a branch snap. Spinning round on his heels, he came face-to-face with a startled looking girl. He noticed immediately that she was roughly the same age as him, maybe a bit older. Her bushy brown hair reflected the sunlight, making it look as if her head was glowing. Her caramel-coloured eyes seemed to be fixed in a state of shock.

Hermione simply couldn't tear her eyes away from his. She thought they combined beautifully with his white blond hair. Suddenly, before she could stop herself, she broke the silence.

"Why are you throwing rocks at trees?" she asked rather bluntly.

Draco was slightly taken aback at this abrupt breach of silence, but decided to answer anyway.

"I'm angry."

"Why?" She inquired.

"I believe the term is none of your business." He drawled.

He saw the startled expression on her face turn into a scowl.

"There's no need to be rude, I was only asking." She huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Both children attempted to stare the other one out, until the silence was once again broken.

"Who are you?"

Draco was again surprised by the girl's bluntness. Suddenly, a thought struck him. This girl didn't know who he was, or what he was called. He didn't need to tell her his real name, which, in his opinion, made him sound like a stuck-up snob. He could use a really cool name, like Jason, or Lee, or-

"My name's Ace." He found himself replying.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him.

"What's yours?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to be taken aback. Should she really tell this boy she just met her name? Her mother had already gone to the trouble of explaining to her about dangerous strangers. Should she make up a fake name, and then go by that said name until she fully trusted the boy? She began to rack her brains for a name other than her own. Then she remembered the name of the heroine from a book she had recently read.

"Stella." she said, giving him a look which she hoped said I'm braver than I appear.

Feeling it would be the polite thing to do (as his mother had brought him up on good manners, being a Malfoy and all), Draco stuck out his hand.

"It's nice to meet you Stella."

Hermione glanced down at his hand, and then took it.

"Nice to meet you to Ace."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Apologies for being MIA for so long! Just didn't really feel any motivation for this story. But now I'm back and I shall venture on!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does

_**Chapter 2**_

_3 months later_

Draco ran the usual path through the forest, tears streaming down his face. It had been three months since he had met, whom he considered to be, his best friend in the whole world, Stella. Every day, the two children would meet up and play together in the secluded clearing, rain or shine. Today it was sunny, which opposed Draco's mood. He was running from his house, where he had just received a black eye from his father for accidently dropping several dishes in the kitchen. He had managed to escape while his mother and father shouted at one another till neither of them had any anger left, so they were both too busy to notice him slip out the door.

Draco ran out of the trees into the clearing, pausing only to take great shuddering breaths. He silently cursed his father, for making life for him and his mother so unbearable. That's when he noticed Stella, sitting beside the great oak tree. Today she had balanced on her lap, a very hefty book. Draco could see that there were pictures of different flowers, with small boxes of text beside them. He then noticed Stella holding a vibrant flower she had picked from the ground, comparing it to the illustration in her book. Draco couldn't help but stare at Stella; it seemed as if she breathed life into the wildlife around her, as flowers seemed to bloom wherever she went.

He still wondered if she was magical, they had never talked about magic. He was starting to reconsider the whole 'Pureblood' thing, though he would never admit that. Draco's father had nearly brainwashed Draco from birth to hate all muggles and muggle-borns. Draco couldn't help thinking 'who cares' whenever his father went on about blood purity. It didn't make sense that Stella could be categorised as inferior to the nitwits Crabbe and Goyle. How could someone so wonderful be a Muggle-born? This brought Draco's attention back to Stella as he saw her through his one working eye. The sun reflecting on her little face made Draco's stomach do a back-flip. He may not have known what he was feeling at the time, but this was the moment where Draco Malfoy first fell in love.

Hermione examined the flower in her hand more closely. Today she had brought with her a plant book. She had wanted to see exactly which type of plants grew in this forest, then thinking this would be a great way for her and Ace to bond more. She sniffed the delicate flower, and suddenly let out a sneeze.

"Bless you."

Recognising the voice of her best friend, Hermione looked up, expecting to see his smirking face. But what met her eyes shocked her much more, she gasped aloud. There indeed was her Ace, but she had never seen such a defeated look on his aristocratic features. One eye was completely swollen and purple, while the other was red with tears flowing from it. His nose seemed to have a steady flow of snot coming from it, and his trembling bottom lip showed he was trying and failing desperately to keep a straight face.

"Ace!" she gasped, "Your eye!"

Draco's hand immediately flew to his eye, but it was too late. Hermione was already scurrying towards him with a tissue she had found in her pocket, the book of plants long forgotten. She gently took his hand away from his eye, and he saw her wince at the sight.

"What happened?" she demanded as she began to gently dab at his face.

"I ran into a tree." He replied gruffly.

"No you didn't." she stated. Having spent three months with the boy, Hermione knew now when Draco told even the smallest lie. "Someone hit you." she stated.

Sometimes Hermione's lie-detecting skills scared Draco. Knowing he wasn't going to win this argument, he caved in.

"Yeah," he admitted, "they did."

"Who was it?"

"My father."

Hermione ceased in her dabbing of Draco's face, and stood still to look at him in disbelief. She had never before heard of a parent hitting a child before. This was one thing her own mother and father had never mentioned in their constant talks that fed her curiosity.

How horrible it must be, to be hit by your own mum or dad_. _

"Why did he hit you?"

"Because I accidently dropped a couple of plates in the kitchen."

"But…that's no reason to just_ hit_ somebody!"

"That's what I thought too." Draco said mournfully.

And then, to Draco's surprise, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him. Despite spending three whole months together, the two children had never been this intimate. Draco breathed in her smell. Cinnamon and vanilla. As long as he lived, Draco knew he would never forget this scent.

"It's okay," she whispered in his ear, "I'm here for you."

Draco couldn't hold it back anymore. He wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in her neck to let out a heart-breaking wail. This time he didn't even try to stop the tears that emerged from his eyes. He simply wailed into Hermione's jumper, letting out all the emotions he had bottled up for the past year. He clung desperately to her, afraid to let go, as she softly crooned in his ear. Hermione paused and very carefully kissed his wounded eye. Suddenly he felt a warm glow heat up his eye, easing the throb to a gentle thrum. Draco felt safe in Hermione's arms. He felt like he never wanted to leave her embrace. Ever.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked hard on it!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.

_**Chapter 3**_

_2 months later_

All was silent in the secluded clearing, except the dull scratching of a knife on wood. Sitting at the foot of the oak tree was Draco. Shivering with cold, Draco took the knife away from the trunk, and stood up to admire his work. One hour earlier, Draco had slipped from his house once more, only this time he was clutching the penknife he had been given by his mother a couple weeks ago. As he sat waiting for Stella, he had etched a heart, with the words _Ace + Stella_ inside. It was a present to her, from him, and he hoped it would lessen the blow of the news he was about to give to her.

"Hi Ace!"

He turned around and there she was, beaming at him, her nose and cheeks red from the cold.

He sighed, "Hello Stella."

Hermione's smile faltered for a second at his sad tone, but it was instantly brought back when she noticed the tree behind him. She ran past him, to have a closer look.

"Ace!" she gasped, trailing a gloved finger over the heart as she spoke, "You did this, for me?"

"Yes." He said, a smile breaking out on his own face.

The next second, Hermione had him enveloped in the most heart-felt hug he ever had.

"Oh Ace," she pulled back a little and grinned at him, "I love it."

Draco's own smile began to fall. If it was anytime to tell her, it was now.

"Stella," he sighed, gently tugging her arms away from his neck and holding her hands in his own, "There's something I have to tell you."

Her questioning caramel eyes stared into his silver ones.

"I," he began, "I mean…my family and I…"_Just spit it out!_ "…We're moving away."

Hermione swore the world stopped spinning. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. Ace's words kept going round and round inside her head. _We're moving away….We're moving away…_

"Moving away…" she repeated.

Draco could only look at her. He knew how she felt. He too had been devastated when his father broke the news to him.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes beginning to sting.

"Father's got a new job. He says he'll earn better money if he accepts it. Not that we really have a choice, but me and mother have to go with-

"No!" Hermione suddenly burst out, interrupting him, "You don't have to go with him! He beats you! You aren't safe with him!"

"Stella…"

"Come live with me!" Her voice was rising in desperation, "You and your mum! My parents won't mind!"

"Stella-

"We'll live together, that way you'll never have to leave-

"Stella!"

Hermione stopped instantly, frightened by the tone of his voice. Before she could start again, Draco continued.

"Believe me, I don't want to go. I want to stay here forever, with you. But I don't have a choice. However, there is one way we can always be together."

"How?"

"Take off your glove."

Hermione took the glove off her left hand, and allowed Draco to take it. Then, from his pocket, he drew out his penknife. Hermione gasped.

"Is that a-

"Yes," he interrupted, "I read about this in a story book once. It allows the two people to become permanently bonded. This might hurt."

And with that, he drew the knife diagonally across Hermione's left palm, drawing blood, and leaving a deep cut. Hermione yelped in pain.

"Sorry." He mumbled, before drawing the knife over his left hand. He grabbed Hermione's bleeding hand and held it tightly with his.

"How does this work?" she winced, watching droplets of their blood fall to the ground, making patterns in the snow.

"Because now my blood is running into you and your blood is running into me." Draco explained, "Now, no matter where we are, we still have a part of each other, it's just inside us."

Hermione gazed into his eyes. Despite the pain, this was the most romantic gesture she had ever seen. Then, without warning, the hand that wasn't clutching his cupped his face and she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.

Draco, despite it being the worst day of his life, had never felt so happy. Much too soon for his liking, she pulled away.

"Ace, there's something I have to tell you too." Hermione blurted out, "Stella isn't my real name." she saw his eyes widen in surprise. "My real name is-

But she was interrupted by a loud and sudden crack. The two children jumped apart and faced the direction of the noise. There stood a tall and beautiful woman. She had pale hair and silver eyes. Hermione recognised her instantly as Ace's mother.

"There you are!" Narcissa exclaimed, marching towards Draco, "I have been looking for you everywhere! Come on, we need to go." She grabbed Draco's wrist, not taking notice of his bleeding hand or Hermione.

"No!" Draco yelled, trying to wrench his wrist out of his mother's grip.

"Yes!" Narcissa yelled back, starting to drag Draco away from Hermione, who seemed rooted to the spot.

"LET GO OF ME!" Draco yelled again, digging his heels into the ground.

"Come on." Narcissa demanded.

"NO!" cried Draco. Hermione met his eyes one last time before he and his mother disappeared into thin air.

Draco and Narcissa apparated into their living room. Draco turned on his mother at once.

"HOW COULD YOU?" He screamed at her, "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?"

Before she could grab him, Draco sprinted out the living room, up the stairs, and into his bedroom, where he proceeded to punch and kick everything in sight and scream at the top of his lungs. After he had thoroughly destroyed his room, Draco sank down onto his knees and cried. Never in his life had he felt so angry. So lonely. So heartbroken.

Meanwhile in the clearing, Hermione still stood, staring at the spot where Draco and his mother had just disappeared. Then she did what any seven year-old in such a situation would do. She too, burst into tears. Clutching at her bleeding hand, she wailed, letting out all her anger, frustration and sadness. How unfair this all was. The love of her life had been forcefully taken from her. And now, she would never see him again.

Or so she thought.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

_11 years later_

Closing her book, Hermione leant her head against the window and sighed, watching her breath steam up the window. Despite it being the middle of October, winter was already approaching Hogwarts. She let her mind wander.

It had been roughly eleven years since she had seen the love of her life. Could she call him that?

Yes, she could_. _

He was the reason after all, that her love life had never been successful. The reason she never got far with Viktor, Cormac or Ron. Godric knows she had tried to enjoy all three relationships, but her conscience had constantly reminded her about him. She had always wondered what he might look like now. He had to be eighteen, like her. Would he still have the white-blond hair she had always been so fond of? Suddenly, she was reminded of someone else she knew who had white-blond hair, and she felt a scowl form on her face.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione remembered the first time she ever laid eyes on him. It was her first trip on the Hogwarts Express, in her first year. She had been helping Neville track down his escaped toad. She was running down the corridor outside of the compartments, glancing inside to see if there was any sign of the toad. She then came across one, right at the end of the corridor, which she knew she hadn't checked before. She noted there were three boys, first years like herself, sitting inside. One was huge, and was stuffing Bertie Botts Every-Flavoured Beans into his mouth. Gregory Goyle. The other one, who sat beside him, was shorter, but only by a few inches. He was laughing at something the boy opposite had said. Vincent Crabbe. Then her eyes fell onto to the third boy. He looked up at the same time, and Hermione felt her heart perform a strange jig under her ribcage. Silver grey eyes and pale blond hair. Hermione thought her legs were about to give out from beneath her. And the boy just wouldn't look away. They were both trapped in their own private world, where it seemed like nothing could disturb them. Hermione came crashing back to reality when she felt a hand grab her arm. Breaking eye contact with the scarily familiar boy, Hermione whipped her head round a found that the offending hand belonged to Neville.

"Don't bother going in there Hermione," he said, "I've checked it already, and Trevor isn't there. And besides," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "you don't want to talk to that lot."

"What do you mean?" Hermione enquired.

"I just mean they're a right nasty bunch." Neville explained, "they'll all be in Slytherin, I'm sure of it."

Hermione looked back into the compartment, and found the boy was still staring at her. Before she could do anything else, she felt Neville tug her away, eager to resume the search for his lost pet.

It was at the Sorting Ceremony that Hermione finally found out his name. Draco Malfoy. And Neville was right. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle ended up in Slytherin. Hermione remembered thinking… no…_ hoping_ that Draco was Ace. But then started the six years of torment, and that thought had quickly been shoved out her head. Especially when he started calling her Mudblood. Never had Hermione met someone so foul, so narcissistic, so arrogant…..the list goes on. And it didn't help that now they were both Head Boy and Girl.

After the war, Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of their year were given the option to stay on for an eighth year, to complete their N.E.W.T.S. Hermione immediately jumped at the chance, but her two best friends decided to move on to the Ministry of Magic, so they could both train to be Aurors. Neville, Luna, Ginny, Lavender and Seamus chose to remain at Hogwarts with Hermione. Professor McGonagall of course, had expected Hermione to stay on, and without hesitation, gave Hermione the position of Head Girl. Hermione had been thrilled, until she heard who Head Boy was.

"Granger."

Speak of the devil. She looked up from her seat on the windowsill and met his face, looking down at her.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she snapped.

His eyebrows rose in amusement.

"Grouchy today, aren't we?"

Hermione continued to glare at him.

"Anyways, I was just wondering what you were doing sitting on the windowsill, staring at nothing. The look on your face just then could rival Looney Lovegood's."

"Her name is Luna," Hermione corrected, "and if you must know, I was just thinking."

"There's a surprise." He said, an arrogant smirk gracing his lips.

'Oh shove off' she said, picking up her book, standing up and strode past him, making sure she knocked his shoulder on the way.

"Clumsy as ever I see!" she heard him call before she slammed the door to her bedroom.

Hermione found that the one disadvantage of being Head Girl was that she had to share a common room with Draco. The Head dorm was located relatively near the Headmaster's office, concealed behind a portrait of the four houses' signature animals. The common room was simple enough, three windows, a few bookcases lining the walls, a couple of comfy chairs and sofas in front of big crackling fire, with a small kitchenette of to the side. On opposite sides of the room were two doors, one labelled Head Boy, the other Head Girl. Hermione's room was decorated in Gryffindor colours of course, and had a small ensuite bathroom attached. Hermione would have considered her living conditions perfect, if there wasn't a parasite right outside her door.

Draco watched as a flustered Hermione slammed the door to her room and chuckled to himself. It was always so easy to wind her up. It was kind of like a game to him. He sat himself down on one of the sofas and closed his eyes.

Eleven years. That's how long it had been since he was torn from his true love. He always thought about her, even now, though he was dating Pansy. Could he really call it dating though?

No, he couldn't.

Draco was sure that for it to be called dating, both participants had to like each other. Whilst that may be the case for Pansy, it wasn't for him. His thoughts were always consumed with her. What did she look like now? He always wondered. Would she still have the same radiating smile? Would her hair still be as bushy as he remembered? Then, another bushy-haired girl wandered into his mind.

Hermione Granger.

He remembered when he first saw her. All those years ago, on the Hogwarts Express. He had been sitting in one of the compartments with his old friends Crabbe and Goyle. Goyle was wolfing down the Every-Flavoured Beans as if his life depended on it, and Crabbe had been laughing at one of his jokes. Draco was about to tell another when, out the corner of his eye, he saw someone stop outside the compartment. Assuming it was that stupid Longbottom kid again, he turned to tell him again that his stupid toad wasn't in here, when his eyes met a girl. His breath seemed to be ripped out his lungs. This girl's eyes were chocolate, just like _hers. _And that mop of brown hair was too similar. And try as he might, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. A thousand hours could have gone by, and he wouldn't have noticed. But it was all over too quickly, when Longbottom had caught her attention. He still continued to stare at her while she talked to him. Then she met his gaze again. He was just about to go outside and talk to her when she was reluctantly dragged away.

'Do you know her?' asked Crabbe, who had just witnessed the whole thing.

Draco came out of his dazed state.

'I…' Draco began, 'I'm not sure.'

Later, at the Sorting Ceremony, he learned her name. Hermione Granger. Draco though, was certain that she was his Stella. He cast that thought aside however, when he found out about her heritage. No way on Salazar's soul was he going to love a Mudblood. And as the years dragged on, more and more things about her started to irritate him. The fact she always had her nose in a book. How she somehow knew the answer to every fucking question the teacher asked. That she somehow became friends with the Potter prat and the weasel. But what irked him about her most of all, was that she was better than him in almost all of their classes. He had reluctantly admitted it to himself on many occasions. Nor would his father let him forget it. And now he was trapped with her as a fellow Head.

When the war ended, he and his family had been forced to flee once more. The attempt however was futile, as they were caught by the Ministry only a few weeks later. He and his mother were dismissed of all crimes, as the Ministry understood they were only doing what was necessary to survive. His father however, couldn't buy his way out of punishment this time. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. Not that Draco or his mother particularly cared.

When the news reached McGonagall about Draco's apparent innocence, she owled him immediately, giving him the same opportunity as Hermione. At first, he refused to go, trying to explain to his mother that every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and (possibly) Slytherin would want to throw him off the highest astronomy tower. Narcissa though, managed to make him change his mind. He had regretted his decision immediately when he first stepped foot on the train. Everyone looked at him as if they couldn't believe he had the nerve to come back. He was relieved however, when he arrived at the Slytherin end of the train, and found three of his old friends waiting for him, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Pansy. There were also three others, Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis and Miles Bletchley. Draco found himself enjoying the company of Blaise and Theo far more than that of Crabbe and Goyle. Both boys seemed more excited about Draco being Head Boy than himself, but then again, they didn't yet know who he would have to constantly work with. Then a couple of days later, Pansy had asked him to be her boyfriend. Draco had only agreed because he knew Pansy would try and stab him in his sleep if he refused.

He opened his eyes and let out a weary sigh. He would give all the galleons in the world for Pansy to be Stella. Or at least, for Stella to be in the same school as him. He stood and walked to his room, which was like Hermione's, except more masculine and decorated in Slytherin colours, deciding now was a good time to go to bed.

Both Hermione and Draco fell asleep that night, thinking of their lost loves. Neither had any idea they were only across the hall from them.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I meant to say in the last chapter, sorry for not updating this story in so long! I promise I'll try and update it more frequently. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter, I worked really hard on it and it's one of my personal favourites!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

_**Chapter 5**_

Hermione woke early the next day and dressed quickly. She was not in the mood for another face-off with Draco yet. Peeking out her door to check he was indeed still in his room, she stepped out and closed her door behind her. She walked to the door, grabbing her schoolbag and stroking a snoozing Crookshanks on the way. As soon as she stepped outside the Head dorm, she sniffed the smell of freshly made breakfast that was wafting from the Great Hall. When she got there she walked to the Gryffindor table and found Ginny, Neville, Lavender and Seamus already sitting there. Smiling at them all, she squeezed herself in between Neville and Ginny.

"Morning." She greeted.

"Morning." They all chorused back.

"Mione, can you please tell Neville to let me copy his Herbology homework?" asked Seamus, "I don't get it at all and he won't help me."

"There's a difference between helping someone and letting them just copy your work." countered Neville through a mouthful of bacon, "you won't learn anything if you just copy people all the time."

"He's right you know." agreed Hermione.

"Besides," Ginny added, "Professor Sprout will know you've copied. You aren't smart enough to suddenly produce a level of work that's as good as Neville's."

Everyone laughed at this, even Seamus, who half-heartedly tried to whack Ginny on the arm from across the table. Fifteen minutes later, Hermione looked up from the _Daily Prophet _and saw Draco enter through the grand doors. She huffed when she remembered that she had Transfiguration with him next.

Bloody brilliant_._

Draco approached the Slytherin table and greeted his friends. As soon as he sat down, Pansy latched herself onto his arm.

"Good morning you." she cooed, leaning in for a kiss. Fortunately, Draco turned his head just in time and she only caught his cheek.

"Morning Drakie!" Theo mocked, batting his eyelashes at him. Blaise snorted in amusement.

Draco just glared at the two and grabbed a piece of toast.

"Did you sleep well last night?" asked Blaise, who had noticed Draco's complexion, was slightly paler than normal.

"Like a log," Draco mumbled back, but this was a lie. He had woken in the middle of the night with a cold sweat, and had stayed up for what seemed like hours. He had once again dreamed of the day his mother separated him and Stella. 'But Stella isn't even her real name_' _the annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him, 'and you didn't tell her yours.' Draco rubbed his hand over his forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on.

"Listen," Draco said, standing up, "I'm going to head up to Transfiguration early."

"Wait for me." Pansy said. But Draco didn't hear her; he had already started walking to the door.

"What's wrong with him?" Theo asked whilst plucking another sausage from the pile in front of him.

"Don't ask me," Blaise shrugged.

"I bet you it's that Mudblood," Pansy snarled, glaring over at the Gryffindor table, "Imagine having to share a room with that."

Blaise and Theo merely shared an amused expression before they resumed eating. Most of the Slytherins knew Pansy was slightly jealous of Hermione, though the reasons why, none of them knew. But Blaise could hazard a guess. Pansy probably thought Draco and Granger were doing a few more things other than Head duties in that dormitory. She needn't worry though. If Draco was getting some action, Blaise was certain he would be the first of Draco's friends to know. Then Blaise internally laughed at the idea. Draco with a Muggle-born. With Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's princess, a war hero, and a best friend of Potter no less. Yeah, that was about as likely to happen as Theo announcing he was gay.

That evening, Hermione was walking the usual route to her dorm, when she decided to take a detour. 'Maybe it's not there today_.' _she thought, but her spirit was immediately crushed when she reached her destination.

In her first year, before she had properly met Draco and discovered his personality, Hermione wrote a note to Ace, thinking that maybe Draco would find it and realise who it was from. She carried the small bit of parchment around for days, until she found the perfect spot to hide it. A small crack in the wall, in the left-hand corridor that led to the Great Hall. Hermione had hid it there, for the note was obvious to anyone who was looking directly at it, but the rest of the time was camouflaged. Every few days since she had put it there, Hermione checked to see if anyone had taken it. But as the years dragged on, her hope slowly diminished. But still she did not give up.

And it was still there tonight. Hermione let out a forlorn sigh, then turned on her heel and walked away.

'One day,' she thought as she climbed the stairs, 'one day it won't be there.'

Draco was fuming as he stormed down the corridor later that night. Flitwick had given him detention, the stupid old wart, in the morning during Charms. To Granger's utter delight, he had been caught passing notes to Theo. He had only been released from Filch's dark, dank office five minutes before, and now he was going to fall behind the mountain of homework that he had been given. As he passed the Great hall and stomped down the left-hand corridor, he punched the wall in frustration. He bit back a yelp as pain shot through his fist.

"Fucking shite." he grumbled as he inspected his bleeding knuckles. He looked down and noticed something had fallen out a crack in the wall he had just hit. A note. Bending down, he picked up the note and opened it. As he read the words, he felt his heart leap into his throat.

_I'm here too, Ace._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Haha, not gonna lie, I felt a tiny bit guilty for leaving you guys on that cliffhanger (for about three seconds). When reading stories I hate them, and yet when writing, I love them! And thank you so much to all those who favourited, followed, and reviewed! Shout - out to **_** , patty cake rocks, Musicalangel913, dragonmia, The Effervescent Auror, hoshiakari7, Mehmiester and Guest. **_**Thanks for your comments; they mean a lot to me! Anyways, the show continues…**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

_**Chapter 6**_

Draco fell against the wall. His legs had suddenly lost all feeling and he slid down to sit on the floor, the note clutched in his death-like grip. He stared at the wall opposite him, trying to calm the ideas circling in his head.

'This must be a joke,'a part of him thought, 'some sort of sick, twisted joke.'

'But how can it be?'The other part reasoned, 'I never told anyone about her.'

Somewhere in the distance, a door creaked. Draco snapped his head towards the sound, and his gaze fell on the orange lamp-like eyes of Mrs Norris.

"Shit." Draco murmured, scrambling up off the floor. If Mrs Norris was here, Filch was sure to be close by. Draco sprinted away from the ancient cat towards his dorm. When he closed the door behind him, he slumped against it, his breathing coming in short pants.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked into the kitchenette and saw Hermione staring at him with wide eyes, holding a mug of tea in her small hands.

"Where have you been?" she questioned as she walked over to him, "It's nearly eleven."

"What? No it's…." But his words died in his throat as he glanced at the small clock that sat in one of the book cases. Hermione was right. But he had finished his detention at nine. He can't have sat at that spot for two hours, could he? Then he noticed his backside was feeling rather numb.

"Oh, must've lost track of time." he said.

"You still haven't answered my question," Hermione said, placing the mug down and folding her arms across her chest. "Where were you?"

"Detention."

"For five hours?" she asked, clearly not believing it.

Draco shrugged. "I've had longer." He made to walk to his room, but Hermione stepped in front of him. He tried to step around her, but she placed a firm hand on his chest to stop him.

"Don't touch me." He spat, batting her hand away.

Hermione glared at him. "We still need to patrol the grounds." she said, not bothering to hide her impatient tone.

"I don't feel well." he snapped back, managing to side step her at last. "You do it."

"You expect me to inspect the whole school, at this hour, by myself?" she asked disbelievingly.

Draco paused outside his door to face her.

"What's wrong Granger? Don't tell me the one thing you Gryffindors are afraid of is the dark?" he sneered.

"Don't be ridiculous." she huffed.

"If you're so desperate for a partner, why not ask that Michael Corner prat?" he smirked, "I'm sure he'd love a few minutes alone in an abandoned classroom with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dear Salazar," he cried, rolling his eyes, "Surely even you aren't that naïve?"

He saw Hermione's cheeks bloom red before stepping into his room and slamming the door. He leaned against it and waited. When he heard the main door close, he went and sat on his bed. He looked down at the note again. So many questions were going back and forth in his mind. He doubted he was going to get much sleep that night.

When Draco slammed his door, Hermione stamped her foot in frustration. Merlin, he was so infuriating! Grabbing her wand, she headed out the dorm. When she was patrolling, she walked down the corridor were Draco had been sitting only twenty minutes earlier. She didn't even notice her note wasn't tucked away in its usual hiding place.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Would you look at that! I'm back from the dead everyone! I won't lie to you, I have been putting off this story for a while. I simply didn't have any good ideas for it. But I've gotten my muse back, and I've been writing non-stop. I would like to take this time to give a heads-up to any of you guys who also happen to like the anime Fairy Tail, which is my current obsession. I should be uploading some stories for that soon!**

**As a thank you to you all for waiting for me to get my shit together, here is a little fluffy chapter for you! I'll try to upload the next chapter ASAP. I PROMISE!**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

_**Chapter 7**_

The next day, Draco found it difficult to concentrate in any of his classes. As well as dozing off every few minutes, he couldn't stop thinking about the note. He even struggled to hold a conversation with Blaise and Theo. That early evening, the Slytherin trio were sitting outside in one of the many courtyards. As Blaise and Theo discussed new tactics for Quidditch, Draco's concentration wavered over onto a ladybug that was sitting on a blade of grass.

"I think we should ask Draco's opinion on this." Theo said, turning to him.

"What?" Draco asked, his eyes snapping up to Theo's face. He inwardly cursed himself for zoning out yet again.

Theo's eyes developed a confused gaze, as he looked at Draco properly for the first time that day.

"Whoa."

"What?" Draco snapped, quickly becoming irritated.

"You look like shit." Theo chuckled.

Draco scowled. He knew that was true. He estimated he must've got about half an hour's sleep the night before. This usually resulted in hideous bags under his eyes and his hair losing its usual shine. It hadn't helped that when he had finally fallen asleep, Hermione had woken up screaming, and cried for an hour. Draco had been tempted to storm into her room and yell at her to get a grip. But the pounding headache he seemed to develop whenever he sat up kept him in bed. He couldn't really blame her either. He still had nightmares about the war too.

"Not enough sleep again?" Blaise asked.

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should ask Madam Pomfrey for a bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion."

"It won't help, trust me." Draco stated.

"Perhaps food will." Theo suddenly piped up. "It's almost time for dinner."

The three boys stood up and walked to the Great Hall. Draco however, couldn't eat. Instead, he decided to push his peas around his plate as he contemplated his situation. If Stella was still here, how was he supposed to find her and talk to her? Would he recognize her? Would she recognize him? Many questions swam in Draco's head, and he had no idea how to answer any of them.

* * *

"Ready for patrol?" Hermione asked. It was now ten at night, and she was impatiently waiting for Draco beside the common room door. Draco emerged from his room, tying his Slytherin cloak over his shoulders.

"Yes." he said, walking past her and out the door.

He didn't bother waiting for her. Stepping out and closing the door behind her, Hermione jogged up beside Draco. They walked in silence for a few minutes, before Hermione's chattering teeth interrupted the peaceful atmosphere. She pulled her jumper sleeves over her hands and tucked them under her armpits, in an attempt to keep warm. The cool October air began nipping at her skin.

"Granger," Draco drawled. "Your teeth are giving me a headache."

"Sorry." she mumbled, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

They continued walking. Then Draco noticed Hermione begin to shiver.

"Where's your cloak?" he asked.

"I haven't seen it for ages." she replied. "And I can't be bothered to search for it."

"….Do you want mine?"

Both teens stopped short. Draco mentally slapped himself.

'What the fuck are you doing?' His thoughts screamed at him.

Hermione was equally surprised.

"Um…okay." she numbly replied.

Draco considered turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction, as far away from her as possible. But his hands had minds of their own. He slowly undid his cloak and slid it off his shoulders. He then held it out to Hermione, his arm rigid. When Hermione took the cloak, their hands accidently brushed together. Draco quickly pulled his hand away as if he had burned it. Hermione saw colour seep into his otherwise pale face, and felt heat creeping into her own cheeks.

"Well," Draco said, clearing his throat. "We should be moving on."

As he strolled away, Hermione fastened the cloak across her shoulders and ran after him. The rest of the patrol passed awkwardly, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when their own door came into view. As they stepped inside, Hermione made a beeline to her room, but was stopped when Draco grabbed her elbow.

"What is it?" she squeaked, suddenly very nervous.

"You still have my cloak on" he simply stated.

Looking down at herself, Hermione saw he was telling the truth. Turning to face him, she tried to undo the strings tied around her neck, and was annoyed to find her fingers were shaking. For a few seconds she fumbled with the knot, until she felt Draco's breath fan her face.

"I'll do it." he said. Hermione blushed when she noticed how close he was. Her arms fell to her side and she watched as he undid the strings. As the material slid off her shoulders, she looked up and met Draco's gaze. Stormy grey on chocolate brown. Both of them stood in that position for a few seconds, before Hermione suddenly remembered why this situation was so wrong.

"Goodnight." she rushed out before turning and practically sprinting to her room. As she shut her door, she leaned back and slid down it, her heart hammering against her ribcage.

'What the hell?' She thought.

In the common room, Draco was frozen in place. His head was spinning. Those eyes. They were so familiar he had been drawn to them, and hadn't been able to look away. Without realising what he was doing, he brought his cloak up to his nose and sniffed it.

Cinnamon and vanilla.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

"You're kidding?" Ginny all but squealed. It was the afternoon after the…incident. Both Hermione and Ginny had finished their classes for that day, so the two best friends retreated to Hermione's room, where Hermione had proceeded to tell Ginny what happened the previous night.

"Why would I lie about something like this?" Hermione reasoned.

"It's just," Ginny began, "You wouldn't be the first."

"What do you mean?"

"You have heard the rumours haven't you?"

"Ginny, please, you of all people know gossip is not an essential part of my life."

"I do! But surely you've heard about the little… shall we say, 'fan-club' he's acquired over the years?"

Hermione groaned. This 'fan-club' had been one of many major headaches during her first weeks with Draco. When the two of them had been announced as Heads at the welcoming banquet, she had received several jealous glares from roughly three quarters of the female population at Hogwarts. During the day she would pass gossiping girls, every one of them openly wondering if she and sunken her claws into their precious blonde-haired baby yet. It seemed that even though he was an ex-Death Eater, his good looks were enough for him to remain one of the most wanted boys in school.

And there was the second thing that bothered Hermione. Did all of Draco's admirers have a bad-boy fixation, or were they all completely forgetting that he and his family were some of the most devoted followers of _the fucking Dark Lord? _Whilst it was true that _she_ in particular may be slightly biased, she could never see the appeal of having a boyfriend whose past hobby was the Dark Arts.

"I'll take that as a yes." Ginny said, breaking Hermione's train of thought. "Well according to Parvati-

"Doesn't it bother them..." Hermione questioned, interrupting Ginny's gossiping, "that Draco used to be a Death Eater? Doesn't it bother any of them, that he may have had a hand in harming, or potentially killing their loved ones?" She glanced over at Ginny, who had gone deadly quiet, "It's just… it's hard for me to wrap my head around how that could appeal to someone."

Silence fell upon the two best friends, like powdery snow on the ground in winter. Despite the time that had passed, the events on the war still weighed heavily on Hermione's mind, as they rightfully should. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand in a comforting gesture. Despite her sense of hesitation, Ginny decided to voice her thoughts…

"Y'know, Mione…" she started, prompting Hermione to look at her once more, "Whilst I completely, do not blame you at all for doing so… I think you're really hurting yourself, by harbouring so much hate for Draco." Ignoring Hermione's confused gaze, she continued, "Remember how angry, and how bitter I was for ages after Fred had died? Well, one night Harry caught me in the middle of one of my breakdowns. He told me that the one way I could ease the pain, to not hurt so much, was to forgive. I thought he was crazy at first, but then he explained it to me. He told me that for so long he was so angry at Voldemort for taking his parents away, so angry that sometimes, he felt his rage would consume him. But at one point or another, he couldn't exactly remember when, he forgave him. He _forgave_ Voldemort, for something so monstrous, because he realised that holding on to such negative feelings, was another way of letting Voldemort win. So I forgave whoever took Fred from me, because I know that he wouldn't want me to live the rest of my life being angry at something I can't undo." Feeling her eyes sting, she looked away from Hermione's awed gaze, "I know, that what Draco did was absolutely horrid, and inexcusable, but I think," she looked back, "You should forgive him, for your own sake."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look away, "I..I'm not sure if it's that easy, Ginny."

"I never said it was easy," Ginny squeezed her hand again, "Just that it could help with whatever you've got going on in your head."

The two girls sat in an amicable silence, as they listened to the sounds of the late afternoon filter in through Hermione's open window. Still stunned by Ginny's advice, all Hermione could do was look down at their inter-locked hands and wonder when the naive, clumsy girl who was obsessed with her best friend transformed into the scarred but amazing woman who sat beside her today.

"And remember," Ginny spoke softly, as if afraid to shatter the peaceful atmosphere surrounding them, "The Malfoys became neutral, so in the end, they weren't fighting against us..." she trailed off when Hermione snorted inelegantly.

"They weren't exactly fighting for our side either," she said, her tone icy. "And besides, isn't that just a rumour? How do we know that isn't something Lucius Malfoy just said to try and reduce his sentence?"

"Well, the only one who can really find out the truth is you." replied Ginny, gently slipping her hand out of Hermione's grasp. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what she was implying. As Hermione was coming up with a reasonable excuse as to why what Ginny was suggesting was an _extremely bad idea_, both of them heard the common room door open and close.

"Is that the time?" Ginny asked, glancing at a non-existent watch on her wrist, "I best be off."

Before Hermione could grab her, Ginny had snatched up her bag and zipped out her bedroom. A few seconds later, Hermione heard the common room door slam shut. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione stood and walked into the common room. There she found Draco sitting in one of the chairs that surrounded the big oak table that was used for studying, in the middle of writing an essay. "She seemed in a hurry." He said without looking up.

"Yeah." replied Hermione absently. Picking up a book, she walked over to the table and sat in the chair opposite Draco. As she was flicking through the pages, she went over Ginny's words in her head. During her time with Draco, she found it had become an unspoken rule that they never discuss the events of the war, probably because they were both afraid of revealing their demons (_or any potential weaknesses_) to one another. However, Hermione reluctantly admitted to herself that the only way the two of them were going to get through the year without stabbing each other in their sleep, was to have a… dare she say it… _heart-to-heart_ talk about the war, so to speak. She began to hum a tune, knowing that, whilst this would annoy Draco to no end, it would get his attention. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds…

"Is there a reason why you're disturbing me?" he snapped, looking up at her with an angry glare. The true reason Draco hated this particular habit of Hermione's was because it reminded him of Stella, who also happened to hum while she read a book.

"Not particularly," she said, "I was just thinking about the conversation Ginny and I were having before you came in."

The scratching of quill against parchment told Hermione he'd returned to his essay. "I'm sure it was absolutely riveting."

"It was." She closed her book with more force than necessary. "It was about the war."

A colourful curse drew Hermione's eyes to Draco, seeing the black streak of ink that now marred his parchment. She wasn't sure if it was the noise she'd made when closing her book, or her statement that had caused such a reaction. The thunderous glare he sent her when he looked up gave her her answer. His voice when he spoke reminded her of how he used to speak to her in second year, slowly and condescendingly, like an impatient adult to a mentally deficient teenager. "Oh really? Well goodness, that is riveting."

Hermione steeled her gaze, "Indeed. We were wondering exactly how much sex appeal an ex-Death Eater has, because if you ask me..." she sucked in air through her teeth, matching his patronizing attitude, "I don't see any." Oh boy, if looks could kill… she'd be more than six feet under by now. Suppressing the urge to shrink back into her chair, she continued. "Tell me Malfoy," resting her head on her right hand, she sent him a sickly sweet smile, "How do you do it? What's your secret?"

He crossed his arms across his chest, "I've got no idea what you mean."

"Then let me spell out for you. How does one with a history such as yours still retain such popularity with the ladies? I'm curious."

"I believe that is none of your business." he drawled.

_ I believe the term is none of your business._

Hermione was momentarily stumped. She had heard that phrase before. In the _exact same tone_. She mentally slapped herself to bring her back to the situation at hand.

"It's the bad-boy thing isn't it? It's something you obviously manipulate in your favour."

He stood up, probably opting to intimidate her with his height, "Why do you care about the female attention I get anyway?" A smirk stretched across his face, "Don't tell me your jealous..."

"As if," she scoffed, standing up as well and slamming her palms against the table, "I just don't get why so many girls are falling over each other to have an ex-Death Eater as a boyfriend."

"Okay first of all," Draco held up two fingers, and ticked off one, "The only girls I have ever dated are Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, and Pansy. And secondly," he ticked off the second, "My family went neutral halfway through the war, which..."

"Which was the coward's way out!" Hermione interrupted, "You obviously saw that Voldemort was a madman, enough to make you turn neutral, but what I don't get is why you didn't switch sides completely like anyone else would have..."

"No you don't get it!" Draco yelled directly in her face, his patience completely shattered, "You don't get that being a Pureblood and deliberately going against the Dark Lord was just as bad, if not worse than being a Mudblood like you!"

Hermione swallowed her gasp as the two of them stood inches apart, both visibly trembling with anger. It shouldn't have shocked her, what he'd just called her, but the truth is that in the whole time they'd lived together, no matter how severe their arguments became, he'd never once stooped that low. She was surprised to find herself fighting back tears.

Draco turned on his heel and stalked out the common room door, taking his homework and his vile comment with him. Even after the door had closed with a resonating click, Hermione simply stood there, shaking from head to toe.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," she spat to the empty air.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello everybody! I think you're all due an explanation as to why I put this story on an unintentional hiatus for so long.**

**Honestly it's been a mix of things: school, other hobbies ****procrastination****, etc. Speaking of school, I'm in the middle of exams right now! And as I've mentioned before, I've moved on to other fandoms, so this story wasn't really high on my list of priorities. I've also decided to edit the chapters that i've not put up already because wow… I did not realise how much improvement my writing skills needed, (Side note, please don't hesitate to point out any spelling/ grammar errors, etc. Believe me, as an avid fanfic reader I am all too aware of how annoying those can be.)**

**But once exams are over I'll be back submitting my stupid fantasies about my otps to you all once again. **_**And here comes the obligatory review scrounging...**_**believe it or not, it really does wonders to a writer's confidence if you leave a review or choose to follow/favourite. Just saying… ;-)**

**Feel free to PM me as well, I'm always up for a chat with fellow fans in a fandom! And with that I give you this fluffy little number. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Believe me, things would've played out **_**very**_** differently if I owned Harry Potter.**

_**Chapter 9**_

The next day, Draco lounged on one of the windowsills that lay around Hogwarts, looking out on to the grounds below. He then pulled out a quill, a sheet of parchment and a book to lean on from his bag, and proceeded to write a letter to Narcissa.

Draco had been writing to his mother since the first week of term; she suggested he do so before he went back to school. He often wrote about what his day had been like, or what him, Blaise and Theo got up to. But he never told her if he had a bad day, as he felt like she worried about him too much already. He was halfway through his letter when his ears picked up the sound of footsteps. As the student walked past him, the corner of his eyes caught a flash of brown, curly hair. It was Hermione, and her eyes were slightly red; she had obviously been crying. Draco felt an unfamiliar feeling beginning to stab at him. The feeling of guilt.

In all honesty, Draco hadn't meant to lash out at her in the way he did. But over the years he had come to accept the fact that he had very little control over his temper. He had gone to class that morning, and had discovered that Hermione wasn't there. He was surprised to say that this had worried him, as the little bookworm missing class was like an elephant walking through Times Square; an incredibly rare occurrence. Even in the afternoon she hadn't shown up. Had she shut herself inside her room all day, and cried?

Draco stood up and called her name. "Granger!"

Hermione, who hadn't noticed him when she walked past, suddenly froze.

"What do you want?"

Draco was completely thrown by how upset she sounded. "I…um..."

"Just spit it out!" Hermione suddenly yelled, whipping round to face him, her vision once again becoming blurry with tears, "Just throw your insult at me so I can carry on with my day! I don't know why I'm even wasting my breath on y..."

"I'm sorry!" Draco shouted, causing Hermione's brain to momentarily shut down in shock.

"W…What?"

"I'm sorry," He repeated, "I didn't mean to call you a Mudblood. I don't even believe in that crap any more. I'd just been having a shitty day and that last thing caused me to snap. You of all people should know I have a terrible temper, but I know that's not an excuse for being a giant arse. How about we just put this all behind us and call a truce?"

Her mouth moved to form words, but alas, she made no sound. Draco Malfoy had just apologized, _to her_. She had to be dreaming. It was the only reasonable explanation. After a painfully long pause, she slowly nodded her head.

"Good." Draco said. The awkward silence remained in the air for a few seconds before he asked, "Do you want to sit with me?"

This question surprised the both of them, as did Hermione's reply.

"Okay."

Both sat down on the windowsill. Silence once again ensued, then Hermione noticed Draco's half-finished letter.

"Who are you writing to?" she politely inquired.

"My mother." Draco smiled, picking it back up. "I've been writing to her once a week since the beginning of term. You know, so she doesn't worry about me as much."

Hermione beamed back, but felt her eyes begin to sting again. "That's surprisingly sweet of you."

"Believe it or not, I'm not a complete monster. I still have parents and everything. And besides, my mother is the only one I'm not cheeky to, because I know she'd kick my arse if I ever were." He laughed. "I'm sure you often write to your parents as well."

Hermione stiffened. Didn't he know? Judging by the confused look on his face he now wore , he didn't.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Last year, before I went looking for horcruxes, I had to Obliviate my parents."

A quietly surprised "Oh." was all she got in reply. Then, "Um...stupid question, but..."

"Why?" She asked for him. She looked to the wall opposite them, not meeting his gaze. She was intent on not crying for the second time that day. "If I died, I didn't want them to go through the pain of losing someone close to them. I'd experienced it enough already by then. Once I obliviated my parents' memories, Professor McGonagall helped me make arrangements to send them to Australia, where I knew they'd be out of harm's way. I have no idea where they are in Australia, but once I've finished here, I'm going to go look for them."

She glanced back at Draco, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

"That was an incredibly brave thing to do." He stated

Hermione let out a quiet, dispirited laugh. "Well, I am a Gryffindor."

"That's not the point." He asserted, his voice deadly serious, "No one should have to go through that."

Her hand automatically went to her left arm."I've been through worse."

The guilt once again crept up Draco's spine. He had always regretted standing idly by as he watched his aunt torture her that night. He would always tell himself though that the guilt was only a result of the little humanity he had left, and not because of the feelings towards her that were steadily growing in size. Determined to change the subject, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Frog box. A few weeks before, Filch had added Chocolate Frogs to his ever growing list of banned items, after an incident where a few second-years had released twenty into his office as a prank.

"Do you want this?" he asked, holding it out to her. "I confiscated it off a first-year this morning."

Hermione took it. "Thanks." She was very confused. 'Since when has Malfoy been this nice?'She thought as she pulled the string off the box.

"I haven't had one of these in ages." She told him, before she bit off the head. It was slightly melted, which meant the chocolate was deliciously soft. She took another bite, slightly smearing some chocolate on the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, Draco leaned forward, bringing their faces very close together. He then brought his hand up to her cheek, and wiped away the chocolate with his thumb. He kept his hand there, wondering if Hermione would pull away; she didn't. Her brown eyes were drawing him in, just like they had two days ago. Then, Hermione whispered,

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know." He replied, before standing up. He quickly gathered his things, his heart thudding painfully against his ribcage.

"I'll see you later, Granger." He said before hurrying away, not looking back. Hermione sat numbly at the windowsill, desperately willing her own heartbeat to slow down.


End file.
